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About Avery Hunter
Avery Hunter invented writing, the quokka (but not its propensity for sacrificing its young to predators), and mudguards for bicycles (after an unfortunate incident one muddy Monday morning). Now they teach tarantulas how to make a perfect mimosa.
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Titles By Avery Hunter
We all have a fascination for things that scare us—the thrill, the heart-stopping jump scares, the terrifying suspense. From the youngest age, we’re fascinated by the fiendish and furry, the creepiest critters, the naughty and the nasty. Horror is all around us, from the clowns who hide under our bed, to the things we might drag up from the brook at the bottom of the garden, and the zombies who crawl our streets.
As author, Megan Feehley, so beautifully says; there is beauty just before the terror…a silken breath taken before the spill of righteousness…the warmth of a licking flame preceding the scald.
So, close the drapes, check the locks, turn on all the lights and get comfortable. But don’t close your eyes…
Never close your eyes...
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
A Valentine (1875)
Edgar Allen Poe
Poetry for Beautifully Broken Souls.